


Devastation as a Term of Endearment

by imperfectkreis



Series: Somewhere Between [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectkreis/pseuds/imperfectkreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unsure when they'll be on assignment together again, Harding and Sera spend some quality time in their shared tent. By which I mean they get naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devastation as a Term of Endearment

Sera knows she shouldn't enjoy petty gifts from noble ladies. Even if that noble lady is the Inquisitor. Even if she's the best friend she's ever managed to have, to keep. But nonetheless Sera likes the little ornate tin filled with beeswax. Painted flowers curl around the casing, in full bloom through this dark' infernal winter. It's contents keep her lips from chapping in the brutal Emprise winds. And besides, bees.

It should feel like a useless trinket to curry favor. Inquisitor Trevelyan does a lot of that with other people. Pretends to be nicer than she is. But Sera is quite certain that this gift was something else. It has taken her a long time to realize as much, but the Inquisitor trusts her as she does few others.

Having worn away enough of the balm, she knows something else is hidden beneath, pressed up against the bottom of the tin. It takes great restraint for Sera not to pull it out before time has come.

From sun-up to past sun-down she and Lace scout the Red Templar auxiliary camps. They stealth between the walking abominations, crusty, strained beasts. Always staying out of sight. The stench of the corrupted is horrid, just horrid. And Sera does curse the Inquisitor for giving her such a shite job. But at least it's a shite job with an occasionally pretty view. The view is best when Harding's stealth drops and she smiles, puts a finger to her lips, and disappears again.

They sit cross-legged on their bedrolls that night, reviewing what they have seen, heard, fitting together pieces of a puzzle with two sets of eyes. Sera rocks back and forth trying to expend what energy she has left, picks at loose threads on her bedding.

Sera's penmanship is questionable at best, so she merely rattles off observations while Lace writes notes in beautiful, angular handwriting. She scribbles so fast Sera doesn't even know how she can think all those thoughts and not be a jumble, much less write them down. The Inquisitor will never read them anyway, so Sera doesn't get why anything has gotta be written down. They've only got the one small lamp to light the tent they share. And their oil supply is low. Sera would rather spend her time doing other things. Like counting the wash of stars across Lace's nose and cheeks.

"You look pretty, concentrating like that."

And the thing is, Lace does, with her brow furrowed, light eyebrows all scrunched together. When she speaks, her lips always curl like she's got some sort of secret that Sera wants to solve. It's so blindingly cute that she wants to kiss Lace all over her face until the dwarf laughs for her to get off.

Sera's been spending a lot of time thinking about getting off. Weeks, really, since they were arse-first in that pile of damp, cold leaves up at Skyhold. When Lace said she could kiss her so they kissed. It was grand, real grand. Thinks about it a lot, that pile of leaves and Lace's hands against the pointy bones on her hips. But everything was real chaste, over the clothes, kiddie stuff. 

The crow arrives just before midnight. They're nearly out of oil and Lace is still writing. Sera stopped talking long ago, instead spending her time playing with the feathers at the ends of her arrows, comparing her bow’s construction to Lace's, anything to pass the time.

She doesn't like the crows with their beady black eyes. All talons and beaks and noise. So she grabs the parchment from its foot. Sends it away before reading the letter. The Inquisitor is supposed to arrive tomorrow in any case. The wagons can't be very far behind.

The note is brief, and in a handwriting she can't recognize. The Spymaster signed it though, so she knows it's legit. A list of ingredients she's supposed to find. Easy enough stuff if one has connections or knows where to look. Sera's got both in spades. But it means she's gotta leave the Emprise in the morning. Gotta be important, or the Inquisitor wouldn't assign this to her.

"Lace?"

The redhead looks up from her parchment, tilting her head to one side. Absentmindedly she tucks her pen behind her ear. Black ink dots at her temple. Sometimes Sera forgets that Lace can look at her the same way she looks back. Devastating. That's a word for it. Lace is devastating in the best way.

"Yeah, Sera?" Her voice is cracked, like her throat is dry. 

"I'm leaving in the morning."

Lace raises her arms above her head, cracking her shoulders and balling her hands into fist before spreading her fingers wide. 

"Well, um, travel safe?" She goes back to her writing. That truly accomplished much. Right, Lace isn't really one for subtlety. 

"Lace?"

"Yeah, Sera?"

Blowing her bangs out of her forehead, Sera tries again. "Might be a real long time until we get assigned together again."

The pen against parchment stops. "Might be, yeah. Never know with the war." The scrape picks up again, but the rhythm is different, like Lace is just scribbling in circles rather than writing words or junk.

"Ya like me, right?" Even asking produces a tight feeling in Sera's stomach. She doesn't want Lace to say no. She's pretty sure Lace won't say no but that tight feeling of anxiety is there all the same. It's sharp and hot and makes her dinner churn. 

"Of course, Sera. I thought you could tell." And she's got that little devastating smirk. 

Sera resolves to use that word even more. Devastating, dev-a-stat-in. Because right now Sera feels like the whole continent is gonna collapse around her if she doesn't get a taste of Lace. If she doesn't know what she sounds like as a panting wreck mewing her name. Weird thing, lust. Even weirder when you give a tit about the other gal.

"You wanna shag?"

Lace chokes on her spit, coughing and pounding her fist against her chest. "Excuse me?"

"You know," Sera sing-songs, "I like you, you like me, and I'm really wondering what the view is like from between your thighs." It's overly crass, maybe, but those words are like a bit of armor against rejection.

"Is it just that easy?" The sincere way Lace asks nearly breaks Sera in two. She hadn't expected the dwarf to be so cautious, reserved about sex.

"No, but I thought we solved all the tough bits already? You have done it before, right?"

The way Lace bites her bottom lip makes her question.

"Oh hell...."

"Not with a...."

"Elf."

They both crack up laughing at that, so full and warm it heats the cool air of the tent. Of all the fucking things to be held up on. That Lace hasn't had sex with an elf before. And the thing is Sera isn't really elf-y, whatever that means. But, she supposes, her body is pretty elf-y in that it's narrow everywhere, but she's got nice tits even if her ass is a bit flat. Can't have everything.

"Ain't all that different, Lace."

"Well, that and I like you," she shrugs her shoulders, "don't want to mess it up."

"Can't right mess it up, can we? Probably one or both of us will be dead before too long. Might as well have fun, right?"

Emboldened by Lace's reaction, Sera crawls across the space that separates their bedrolls. Their armor may be long gone, but with the chill their night clothes are heavy, thick things. Obscures what their bodies actually look like. Sera doesn't mind because 1) she's got a hell of an imagination and b) she's pretty sure she can get Lace outta her clothes.

Taking Lace's freckled face between her hands, she pulls her forward for a now-familiar kiss. It's all wet and sweet and lovely the way lace pushes back against her, the silky texture of her hair as it brushes against the back of her hands. She presses the pad of her finger against the corner of Lace's eye when she pulls back. Waiting for the moment between them to break, for the sky to come crashing down because maybe the Inquisition is all bad luck for almost-good people. Because that's what they are, almost-good but not quite. The stakes are too high to not be a little cutthroat. That's why Sera fits in here when she doesn't anywhere else. That's why someone as lovely and pragmatic as Lace fits in here too.

"It'll be cold."

"I'll warm you up, Lace."

They press their foreheads together and Lace runs her hands down the front of Sera's nightshirt. She can just make out the warmth of her ink-stained hands. They've got the same kind of callouses that come from years with a bow. Lace's are a little lighter though, because she learned proper, had a father to teach her. Funny, thinking about fathers at a time like this.

"Sera?"

"Mmm," the blonde puts her face at Lace's neck, muffling out little satisfied noises coming out just because she's so content. 

"What kind of stuff do you like?"

"You?" It's a cheeky answer, but it makes Lace laugh.

"You know what I mean."

"Licking, touching, don't like nothing inside me. Too...weird." Sera doesn't expand on the weird part. As long as Lace is good, she's good.

"Okay, okay." 

Little calloused hands are already at the hem of her nightshirt, pulling it over Sera's head. The air in the tent is still too cool and her pink nipples pebble almost instantly. They're large and kind of flat. But Sera knows her tits are nice, real nice. From the way Lace looks at them, she's noticed too. 

Leaning over, Lace presses her lips against Sera's breast, licking against the flesh on her way to the nipple. Presses the pad of her thumb against the other one and renders it delightfully warm. It all feels so good so sudden that Sera misses the part where Lace crawls into her lap, straddling her, grinding on her leg.

"Ma-ker!" They're far enough away from the closest Red encampment they don't have to be too worried about noise. And the way Lace bites down, gently, but with sharp teeth, makes her head fucking spin round and round. 

"Good?" Lace questions. Her hands cup Sera's breasts and squeeze. Yeah, she likes them, that's for sure.

"Great, super, awesome awesome."

Smirking, Lace continues along her task. Pulls at the cord on Sera's pants to loosen them up.

"Hey, yeh, let me do something for you too." Not like she wants to be selfish, but she could be, given half the chance.

Tugging her own shirt off, Lace exposes herself and Maker the freckles are everywhere. Everywhere. So many stars. So bright against the paleness of her skin and Sera wants to chart all of them. Desperately wants to live her life by the pattern of them. That's all just silly arousal talk but still, right now that's what Sera wants.

Lace's breasts are round, full against her ribcage. Lovely, too much for Sera's hands, she likes that. And the way the sway of her hips jut out away from her waist. Maker, this woman could slay her if she wanted. 

"So, what do you like?"

"Same, but I do like being penetrated. I think it's good weird." In a bolder act than Sera expected, Lace takes her wrist, pulls the blonde’s fingers to her lips and licks along them. Such a tease!

It's a bit of a scramble to shuck their pants. Too cold to stay exposed, Sera nonetheless takes the time to get a good long look at Lace before they have to huddle under the blankets to keep from freezing. It’s just all curves, curves, curves. Shoulders, tits, waist, hips, ass, thighs. Stocky and fleshy and Maker! All of it. None of the lankiness she sees when she looks at herself. It's a pity she can't really see Lace's body under the covers, but when she slides her leg between Sera's the warmth of it, the wetness of it, snaps her back to the things that she can have, that she does have.

With the height difference it's a bit of maneuvering to get it just right. Sera's shoulders end up bare in order to ensure Lace's face isn't covered. But their fingers are all in the right places. Picking and choosing her angles Lace tries different things until it's the right thing, a little rough and a little fast against Sera's clit. Goes at it with such precision that she almost forgets they're in this together. Sera slides her index finger back into Lace's mouth, just to see her smirk around it. There's no need really to lubricate it, Lace's pussy against her thigh is already wet enough. 

Slips her finger into Lace easily, guess they are pretty slender. Elf-y things she can't help. Damn. Uses the pad of her thumb to press against Lace's clit. She seems to like it a bit softer. The pushing inside her and rubbing against her a slow rhythm. Can tell Lace likes it from the way she bucks, how she mewls with her lips pressed against Sera's chest. 

Just then Lace bites against the flesh of her neck and it's all over for Sera. Read her all too well she did. Knew a bit of roughness would bring her right off. Shouting, squirming, feeling herself pulse and clamp even though there's nothing in her. Trick of her body, or something. Sera doesn't know, doesn't care. Just wants to wipe that smug smile off of Lace's lips with her lips.

"Sod it!"

Sera throws the blankets off of them. Trails her tongue along the still-warm length of Lace's short torso before parting her folds. Quickly she replaces her thumb with her mouth, licking at Lace. Wants to make her toes curl, remember this in the weeks or months they may be apart. Wants her to come rushing to her plush room at Skyhold wanting more, Pale, freckled skin goose bumping in the cold, she wants Lace to need this.

Sliding a second finger into her wet sex, Sera has to use her other hand to hold Lace down as she nearly bucks into her face. Damn, girls with hips thrusting in her face. Fucking hot as hell in this case, though, so she'll accept it. Accept it too because she's just on the verge of being someone with someone else. And that sure as shite has never happened. 

Lace is all wet groans as she comes. Deep and full in the back of her throat. Reverberates all the way down to Sera's slicked fingers. Can feel her twitching on her tongue. Mental.

"Maker! Sera, it's cold!"

"You're right!"

Full of laughter Sera grabs at the sheets, pulling them over them both. Blocking out the cold is a priority now that the haze of lust is fading. Lace is warm against her, sure, but she can't keep out the unnatural frost of the Emprise. For now they're content to huddle against each other, skin on skin. But the truth of the matter is it'll be better if they put their clothes back on. Not worth losing toes or tits over. 

Lace scoots up so they're face to face, little higher even so Sera can tuck her head under the dwarf's chin. This feels nice, a comfort really. Something Sera never thought she would find. Seemed impossible really as a dirty-faced child of the alienage. But she's fought for everything she's ever earned or stolen. Slipped through the shadows and come out on top again and again. Not gonna let Corey-face-face take this away from her. Won't let him take the Inquisition away from her. She'll claw tooth and nail, hissing and spitting, yeah? She's good at that.

In the morning the Inquisitor arrives. Says she hopes all is well, thanks Sera for her service. The words might seem impersonal, but they're not. Inquisitor treats her like people. 

Pity to leave Lace behind. She's already suited in her armor, hands behind her back with her prepared summary for Trevelyan ready. Everything is organized and laid out because Lace is good at that. Sera isn't good at that. As she clambers up onto her horse, Sera waves goodbye to them both, the women who will see her through this life. Don't spend time worrying about what's next.


End file.
